This weekend I went to my mailbox to see if Netflix had delivered my copy of "The Business of Being Born" (I've got babies on the brain for some reason...last night I dreamed that I watched a woman shoot a baby out while holding this yoga position:
and the baby came out smiling and stood right up and waved at the crowd of onlookers)
I only check my mail every few days, mostly because what I receive is bullshit. Lots of credit card offers (now that I'm single and ready to mingle, companies think I have money. Which is funny), ads for local politicians, bills, "Vegetarian Times". If I miss the mail for a few days I'm not exactly upset.
But this time I pulled out an oversized envelope which was stamped with a nebulous (and large) message reading, "Let's Face It Now".
It? Well, what are we facing? And why now? I've got so much shit to do.
I opened the sketchified mystery package and inside was this.
An elaborate brochure advertising a mausoleum.
For as low as $40 a month, I can start paying off my final resting place.
That is the most depressing thing I have ever heard.
Also, it doesn't help the cause that the brochure probably hasn't been updated since 1975. I mean, look at the yellowed photos...I bet if you pulled back you'd see a baby blue Edsel parked by a gravesite.
So tell me, guys...what does it mean when you start receiving direct mail from cemeteries?
15 comments:
I wouldn't worry to much about being targeted for cemetery plots. You need to start worrying when you get those adds, like at my house, and they are stamped "last chance!!"
Pine Lawn is really nice. Wait, I think I might have been drunk at Farmingdale..
It just means in these tough economic times even cemetaries are feeling the pinch and feel they might get more business if they advertised. Our local morning news station just did a live story about a funeral home that was being evicted that morning. Who knew there wasn't a steady income in death??
Well, how many people want to be buried in Pontiac nowadays, Kim?
Personally, I am a fan of "green" funerals. I want to be buried in a cardboard coffin. I'm not kidding.
"what does it mean?"
I say it's a sign that you should consider investing in the funeral services sector. Just consider the peak demand for all those aging Baby Boomers!
Don't worry, K. They don't send those to people with one foot in the grave. Blue-hairs know they're dying and they save themselves the money.
$40 bucks a month for a masoleum? How big are those things anyway? It might be a good investment. That way if you ever (god forbid) become homeless you'd at least have a place to crash.
No noisy neighbors there either.
That's one hell of a newborn..and mother to deliver in that position. The brochure implies "the end" so naturally you should use it's pages as ass wipe. Money saved! The yellowing around the edges means that the slickness of the paper has softened and should not cause paper cuts. EWWWWW
In my case, it means having a dead husband and actually having to choose a plot, and design a headstone. When choosing a headstone I was asked if I wanted to leave space on it for my own name so that I can be buried with him and the headstone will be nice and ready. No thanks, and now I'm gonna choke a bitch.
Ron, Good point,
Steve, I went to a funeral there not so long ago. It is nice. But if you're dead, does it really matter?
Kim, That's just depressing. I thought the only things that were certain were death and taxes. So wtf?
Scoot, right there with you. Only, don't even bury me. Burn me up and give little pieces of me to everyone I love. They can wear me in a locket, or scatter me, or snort me, whatever they wish. Done.
XL, you are a moneymaking genius.
I am starting to wish I hadn't dropped out of mortuary school to pursue my 'creative' side.
Jack, it's still fucked up though.
Pru, funny, I was thinking the same thing about a rented storage space.
Nitewalk, The End, indeed. Rear End.
Lizzie, didn't you have a profile on blogger at some point?
I am still waiting for you to start your own blog. The adventures of a babywearing, breastfeeding, homebirthing superwidow who gets so much done in a day.
I wouldn't think much of it, girl.
It's not a bad sign for you, it's a bad sign for them not having anybody buying.
I think I did have a blogger name but I can't remember what it is. I guess it should be SuperWidda. Takes too long to figure out so early in the am though. Just comment, and you'll know it's me. Liz
Hello,
Thought I would let you know I've expanded on your post on my blog. I think I've had some good ideas, but would love your input.
I think you should forget about the brochure, and maybe worry about that fucked up dream you had.
Cat, that's a good point. I'm curious though how they came across my name. Am I on some direct mail list for old people?
Lizzie, I like Superwidda.
Ron, I loved your post. I left you a long comment.
Poop, I spend more time than is appropriate worrying about the content of my weird-ass dreams.
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